My Gravity
by i-swear-we-were-sufinite
Summary: Katyusha Braginskaya is living a sheltered life. Her high school experiences involve crying too much and trying too hard. Perhaps entry into W Academy's Winterguard could change all of that. Colorguard AU. Eventual CanUkr.


Prologue

"Yekaterina Braginskaya, is it?"

A high school junior fidgeted with a flag. The fabric was cheap and worn from practice, but it gave her shaking fingers something to hold on to. Right in front of her, a panel of judges—composed of two coaches and two members—analyzed her. She knew her eyes were filled with fear and her face was red, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had been preparing for this moment for a month. This was her chance to make her years in school more enjoyable, to make new friends, to break out of her shell—she couldn't back down now.

"Yes. If that's too long, you can call me Katyusha, and if that's too long, you can call me—"

"Katyusha sounds fine. You do realize auditions were a week ago, right?" Her eyes wandered to the ground as she began to spit out nervous words.

"I had pneumonia! I thought Natalia sorted this out! Please, you're already here, about to watch me audition—" One of the instructors motioned for her to stop talking. Katyusha's chest felt tight; she wanted to cry. Her cousin, Natalia, has been a color guard member for a year and a half now, and she was pretty good. The coaches liked her, and she promised Katyusha an audition. Not only did she feel betrayed, she was horribly embarrassed as well. _Please, don't let this be true, _she begged, as the instructor began to speak.

"Calm down. We could always use extra people, but you'll have to do a lot of catching up. May we see you perform?" The gymnasium seemed vast. The ceilings hovered over her head. Though it reassured the nervous girl that her flag would not get stuck in the ceilings, it didn't change the fact that four strangers were about to watch her perform a flag and dance routine in hopes of joining W Academy's Winterguard.

"I'm ready." She wasn't. Her stomach flipped as she forgot how to move.

The music began. An energetic dance song blared from a CD player. Katyusha knew this tune and this beat; she had gone over this routine night after night, with Natalia offering critique. Now, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Her breath escaped her as the panel watched impatiently. Panic ran through her mind and it crippled her.

"May I start again?" she wailed, horrified. She hated herself. Why couldn't she dance? Why couldn't she _move_? The instructor gave a curt nod. A girl on the panel started the song again as Katyusha caught her breath. _Pretend there's nobody there. _

The first verse began and she lifted herself off the ground. Her back ached and her fingers trembled, but all she focused on was the music and that metal pole. She spun it the way Natalia showed her, a little jerky at first, but by the time she reached the chorus, she was spinning both the pole and her body to the tune of the music. By the second chorus, she felt invincible. With new confidence, she tossed the flag into the air and smiled. The panel was a separate world, and it was just Katyusha, dancing and spinning. For a moment, she became more than the girl boys whistled at when she walked down the hall. She was more than the girl who shared friends with her cousins. She didn't freeze, she didn't stutter, and she was brilliant.

The speakers blared its last note as she threw the flag higher into the air, the finishing touch to her performance. She eyed it carefully, making sure she could—

With a _clunk_, the fourteen-foot pole fell to the ground, missing the girl's red, calloused hands. Her heart sank; tears crowded her eyes. If she had managed to redeem herself at any point in her performance, she had lost any hope of joining the team.

A boy from the panel walked up to the crying girl and placed an arm around her. "Don't cry, dear. You were magnificent, I assure you." His voice somehow seemed flamboyant and sophisticated at the same time. "Look at me. You looked beautiful." She opened one tear-filled eye and examined the once-threatening team member. His hair was long, blonde, and wavy, and he was dressed in a black leotard with a red ascot. If she weren't so upset, Katyusha would probably laugh. Natalia had told her a few stories about Francis, the colorguard captain who wore flashy clothes and was far more invested in flirting with his teammates than tossing flags and rifles. He seemed to be her saving grace. "All you need is love, and you'll be granted a spot—"

"FRANCIS, KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HER CHEST!" The main instructor, a short, middle-aged woman with wispy brown hair and far too much makeup snapped. The boy jerked away, leaving Katyusha wondering if he even cared about her at all. "If I have to tell you to keep away from my girls one more time, you pervert, you are losing your position on the team—"

"Oh _non_, you can't kick me off! I'm the captain!" He began to panic. Without much of a choice, Katyusha watched the scene, unsure of what to think. She was still devastated about her disastrous routine, but she knew that this could take her mind off of it.

"Charlotte would make a nice captain, too." The panel girl smirked, much to Francis's dismay.

"But if you were to kick me off, who would replace me? I am a member of the guard, and I know the show by heart—"

"Katyusha would replace you," the instructor claimed. "But this is all hypothetical, isn't it?" She raised an eyebrow at Francis, who nodded in understanding. After she dealt with the flirtatious student, she turned to Katyusha, who could barely look her in the eye. "I'm not kicking Francis here off the team. You are behind by a week, and you are not ready to perform in front of crowds." Katyusha didn't need to hear this. It was clear that there was no spot on the team for her, and she didn't want to hear the truth. The instructor's hazel eyes never left hers. "I like you, Katyusha. You seem like a very sweet girl. Though some of your movement needs to be smoother, I like how you perform. You _feel_ the performance. I've seen shows with very little passion. I've seen experts whose technique is flawless, but their performance is monotone. It destroys everything they've worked towards, and I won't let that happen to my guard." She paused for a moment. Katyusha said nothing; her thoughts were blank. The only thing she could see, hear, or feel was the instructor's words. "My guard is great. We are small, but W Academy has been rising to success. I believe you can contribute to that." Teary blue eyes widened. Katyusha's ears were ringing with the instructor's words. "I see something in you."

At last, the vulnerable, once-invisible Katyusha found her voice. "Does that mean . . . I'm on the team?"

The instructor smiled. "Let's make it happen."

* * *

**A/N: **New story idea! Let's see how far this goes! I am not in the color guard, and I'll definitely have to do some research to write this, but I am in the marching band, and my friend has been in guard for the past two years. I was listening to music when the idea for this somehow came into my head. A lot of this will use my headcanons for characters, and this is intended to be a series of one-shots. Reviews/criticism are encouraged! :)


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